For the past week we have been on safari in Kruger National Park with Malcolm, a mate of mine from Japan who is currently working in Johannesburg preparing for the 2010 World Cup. We started at the southern entrance to the park, snaking slowly northwards staying at a different rest camp each night and spending our days bumping across dusty roads in the coolest safari vehicle on the market – Malcolm’s green four-door Jeep Rubicon. There have been too many amazing wildlife experiences to mention, but here are Mike’s and my top ten.
#1 – The elephant destroyer
On our first full day in the bush the skies were overcast and the air was decidedly chilly. This does not make for the most beautiful wildlife viewing but it does mean that the animals are far more active. We happened upon a bull elephant in the bushes on a quiet road and decided to watch for a while. He munched away on the trees and pulled at the branches. Then he leant his trunk up the tree and started to push. The tree audibly creaked and groaned, but after a few seconds the elephant seemed to give up and strolled slowly to the other side of the tree and ate some more leaves. Then he leaned his trunk against the other side of the tree and really started to push. The leaves rustled and shook and the elephant kept going until with a loud groan the tree gave in and crashed down through the undergrowth. We really couldn’t believe our eyes. The elephant was probably 3-4 metres high, but the tree was easily 20m with a thick trunk and deep roots. After this mammoth show of strength he nonchalantly went on munching the leaves, leaving us flabbergasted.
#2 - The lady that was pleased to see us
Later than afternoon we had the pleasure of meeting another lone elephant at a watering hole. As he drank and sprayed water, we snapped pictures. Malcolm kept saying how lovely ‘she’ was but after one too many episodes of David Attenborough documentaries I was convinced that only male elephants wandered alone and the elephant must therefore be a ‘he’. We debated the point lazily as we chilled and watched him/her munching leaves and going about his/her business. Suddenly the elephant sprouted a fifth leg, a long black appendage that within seconds was slapping about - and at this point we could confidently say it - HIS ankles. The boys were horrified at the sight and we quickly moved on. After I had snapped a few pictures of course.
#3 – Cat on a hot tin road
On our third day in the late afternoon we were driving along one of the main tarred roads when I exclaimed, with my incredible knack of stating the obvious, “blimey, that looks like three lions lying in the middle of the road”. We drove closer. “Blimey, that IS three lions lying in the road!” We drove to within 5 metres, you could almost smell the lions’ breath as they sprawled on the hot tarmac in the afternoon sun. We took countless photos as they twitched, rolled over and fidgeted, and all was well. Then one of the lions stood up. At this point, with the windows down and the roof off the Jeep I was TERRIFIED and sunk down in my seat hoping they wouldn’t see me while Mike whispered urgently “take some pictures Sarah, stop being such a wimp”. Nothing could persuade me to sit up in my seat until the lion had safely flopped back down again into a slumber.
#4 – Mike’s almost road-kill
After we had watched the lions for half an hour or so we were conscious that we needed to get to camp as soon as possible before the gate closed so we decided we would stick to the speed limit of 40kmph, rather than our usual 20kmph crawl, and hot-foot it back to camp along a dusty unmade road. Mike was driving and he ramped the speed up and we bumped along in the dust with the sun sinking lower in the sky. We rounded a bend and almost smacked into a male lion out for an afternoon stroll, all three of us shouting “Whoaaaaaaa!” He pulled back in shock and the three of us scrabbled to reverse the car, put the windows up and take photos all at the same time. The lion gathered itself together and crossed the road, as cool as a cucumber, and retreated into the bushes leaving the three of us slumped in our seats, a gibbering wreck.
#5 – Raging bull
We carried on again, rounded another bend to find a large bull elephant near the road. As we slowed down and attempted to crawl by he came into the road, flapping his ears and stamping his foot. We reversed, turned off the engine and waited. We started the engine and tried again, and this time he raised his trunk and shook his head. We reversed and waited while he eyed us suspiciously. Two more attempts until finally he crossed the road and moved far enough away in the bushes that we felt safe to pass by.
#6 – Cats in the long grass
At Talamati Bushveld camp Mike and I got up at the unearthly hour of 4.45am to go on a walking safari. I had heard on countless occasions that walking safaris are a bit dull. As you trundle through the undergrowth any animal with any shred of a brain heads for the hills, so walking safaris usually entail bird watching (twitching) and examining animal spoor (poo-watching). However, after four days in the Jeep it was in everyone’s interests that I got a bit of exercise. We met Chester, our guide, and clattered out in an open-sided safari vehicle as the sun rose, passing a family of rhino on the way.
We turned down a dusty track to meet Andre, our second guide, and another tourist. We hopped out of the vans and as Andre and Chester loaded their rifles they briefed us on what to and what not to do – it all sounded quite exciting and they were very funny guys, full of jokes. Just as they finished their explanation we heard a lion growl and both guides got very excited indeed. It’s difficult to describe the sound of a lion growl until you’ve heard it yourself. You don’t just hear the growl, you feel it too as it vibrates within you, leaving you in no doubt as to the power of these big cats.
They asked us to follow them - staying low - so we crawled through the undergrowth feeling a bit like burglars in a slapstick movie. We emerged on to a plain of dry yellow grass and they pointed out a lion ahead of us. To be honest it could just as easily have been a tree stump and I began to think they were winding us up.
#1 – The elephant destroyer
On our first full day in the bush the skies were overcast and the air was decidedly chilly. This does not make for the most beautiful wildlife viewing but it does mean that the animals are far more active. We happened upon a bull elephant in the bushes on a quiet road and decided to watch for a while. He munched away on the trees and pulled at the branches. Then he leant his trunk up the tree and started to push. The tree audibly creaked and groaned, but after a few seconds the elephant seemed to give up and strolled slowly to the other side of the tree and ate some more leaves. Then he leaned his trunk against the other side of the tree and really started to push. The leaves rustled and shook and the elephant kept going until with a loud groan the tree gave in and crashed down through the undergrowth. We really couldn’t believe our eyes. The elephant was probably 3-4 metres high, but the tree was easily 20m with a thick trunk and deep roots. After this mammoth show of strength he nonchalantly went on munching the leaves, leaving us flabbergasted.
#2 - The lady that was pleased to see us
Later than afternoon we had the pleasure of meeting another lone elephant at a watering hole. As he drank and sprayed water, we snapped pictures. Malcolm kept saying how lovely ‘she’ was but after one too many episodes of David Attenborough documentaries I was convinced that only male elephants wandered alone and the elephant must therefore be a ‘he’. We debated the point lazily as we chilled and watched him/her munching leaves and going about his/her business. Suddenly the elephant sprouted a fifth leg, a long black appendage that within seconds was slapping about - and at this point we could confidently say it - HIS ankles. The boys were horrified at the sight and we quickly moved on. After I had snapped a few pictures of course.
#3 – Cat on a hot tin road
On our third day in the late afternoon we were driving along one of the main tarred roads when I exclaimed, with my incredible knack of stating the obvious, “blimey, that looks like three lions lying in the middle of the road”. We drove closer. “Blimey, that IS three lions lying in the road!” We drove to within 5 metres, you could almost smell the lions’ breath as they sprawled on the hot tarmac in the afternoon sun. We took countless photos as they twitched, rolled over and fidgeted, and all was well. Then one of the lions stood up. At this point, with the windows down and the roof off the Jeep I was TERRIFIED and sunk down in my seat hoping they wouldn’t see me while Mike whispered urgently “take some pictures Sarah, stop being such a wimp”. Nothing could persuade me to sit up in my seat until the lion had safely flopped back down again into a slumber.
#4 – Mike’s almost road-kill
After we had watched the lions for half an hour or so we were conscious that we needed to get to camp as soon as possible before the gate closed so we decided we would stick to the speed limit of 40kmph, rather than our usual 20kmph crawl, and hot-foot it back to camp along a dusty unmade road. Mike was driving and he ramped the speed up and we bumped along in the dust with the sun sinking lower in the sky. We rounded a bend and almost smacked into a male lion out for an afternoon stroll, all three of us shouting “Whoaaaaaaa!” He pulled back in shock and the three of us scrabbled to reverse the car, put the windows up and take photos all at the same time. The lion gathered itself together and crossed the road, as cool as a cucumber, and retreated into the bushes leaving the three of us slumped in our seats, a gibbering wreck.
#5 – Raging bull
We carried on again, rounded another bend to find a large bull elephant near the road. As we slowed down and attempted to crawl by he came into the road, flapping his ears and stamping his foot. We reversed, turned off the engine and waited. We started the engine and tried again, and this time he raised his trunk and shook his head. We reversed and waited while he eyed us suspiciously. Two more attempts until finally he crossed the road and moved far enough away in the bushes that we felt safe to pass by.
#6 – Cats in the long grass
At Talamati Bushveld camp Mike and I got up at the unearthly hour of 4.45am to go on a walking safari. I had heard on countless occasions that walking safaris are a bit dull. As you trundle through the undergrowth any animal with any shred of a brain heads for the hills, so walking safaris usually entail bird watching (twitching) and examining animal spoor (poo-watching). However, after four days in the Jeep it was in everyone’s interests that I got a bit of exercise. We met Chester, our guide, and clattered out in an open-sided safari vehicle as the sun rose, passing a family of rhino on the way.
We turned down a dusty track to meet Andre, our second guide, and another tourist. We hopped out of the vans and as Andre and Chester loaded their rifles they briefed us on what to and what not to do – it all sounded quite exciting and they were very funny guys, full of jokes. Just as they finished their explanation we heard a lion growl and both guides got very excited indeed. It’s difficult to describe the sound of a lion growl until you’ve heard it yourself. You don’t just hear the growl, you feel it too as it vibrates within you, leaving you in no doubt as to the power of these big cats.
They asked us to follow them - staying low - so we crawled through the undergrowth feeling a bit like burglars in a slapstick movie. We emerged on to a plain of dry yellow grass and they pointed out a lion ahead of us. To be honest it could just as easily have been a tree stump and I began to think they were winding us up.
They told us to stay low again and we carried on through the scrub with the field to our right. We emerged on to the field again and we could see the unmistakeabale form of a male lion standing in the grasses, looking straight at us, about 100m away. It immediately began to retreat. All five of us were hopping out of our skin with excitement and discussed what we had seen in loud whispers. The guides explained that the lions are scared of humans and almost always walk away when they see them. They said that they rarely see lions on the walking tours because the lions hear them and retreat before they see them.
A few seconds later we heard another lion growl so it was back into the bushes again. This time as we walked we could see the lion lying in the long grasses with its back to us. Our guides led us closer and closer until we were about 50m away. At this point the lion turned and growled at us, then it rose and watched us as we stood rooted to the spot, hearts beating nineteen to the dozen. After a while it too started to slowly retreat and we all whispered in amazement to each other. The guides made growling noises, saying “coooome aaand geeeet uuuus” and when they did this the lion stopped to watch us. Nothing can compare to the electrifying feeling of standing in the bush, eye-to-eye with a male lion and we felt incredibly lucky to have seen it.
#7 Lunch time mud bath
As we headed further north later in the week, the sun came back out, the temperature slowly rose and it became harder and harder to spot the wildlife on the move for the bulk of the day. The received wisdom is that you should rise early to see the animals at dawn and either take a siesta or stake out a watering hole during the day. As we drove along just before lunch in the baking hot sun I said “the one thing that I really want to see is a big group of elephants at a watering hole”. Not ten minutes later we passed a large watering hole and saw four bull elephant drinking at the water’s edge, their skin glistening where they had sprayed their backs with mud to cool down and to act as protection from the sun. We sat on a bridge and watched for a while and another elephant joined the first few. He began by slapping some mud about, throwing it high on to his back. Then he decided that really wasn’t doing the trick so he waded into the mud and lay down. That obviously wasn’t working either, so he decided to wade through the mud to the deeper water beyond and then across the river. At this point a larger bull elephant on the opposite bank decided he was not happy with that and shooed the younger elephant away.
Then, suddenly, on the horizon we spied a large group of elephants plodding slowly out of the thicket. As they saw the watering hole they began to speed up, nodding their heads in what looked like intense excitement – if elephants could smile that was what they were doing. As they got closer to the water they started to jog and the entire family ran head long into the water where they threw mud about, splashed around, wallowed and kicked their legs, stamped and slapped their trunks on the water in an orgy of muddy fun. The baby elephants particularly were gurgling and splashing about like toddlers in a paddling pool.
#8 - Let sleeping cats lie
Later that afternoon after a particularly wildlife-devoid hour or two in the relentless heat we found a pride of lions chilling under a tree. They were in such a tangle that it was difficult to make out exactly how many lions we were looking at. They slumbered on, with only their ears and tails twitching, occasionally lifting their heads to scratch or lick a paw, yawn, or roll over on to their backs with their legs in the air, looking every bit like big cuddly pussy cats.
#9 - Baboon take-away
On our penultimate day I had scheduled a much-needed rest day at Oliphants camp. Due to a mix up with the rooms we had landed on our feet and had the pleasure of a rondavel right on the edge of the escarpment overlooking a sweeping bend in the Oliphants River. The temperature rose to 40 degrees and we sat in the shade for most of the day writing post cards, snoozing, and watching the wildlife amble by below us. At most of the accommodation in the park there are big signs warning you to take various precautions to keep the baboons away from your food, such as turning your fridge to the wall or bracing your doors but we hadn’t really seen much sign of the wily fridge-invaders. Our next door neighbours, however, had wedged a very heavy chair against their fridge door. Suddenly we heard a scraping and turned to see a huge male baboon dragging the chair from our neighbours’ fridge. Within seconds the eight or nine baboons had swept into action with furtive glances in every direction in case they were discovered. One smaller monkey stuffed handfuls of cherry tomatoes into his cheeks with both hands. Another stole a lettuce and sat on the wall munching his way through. Another took a metal bowl filled with leftover pasta and made a run for it. The alpha male opened a carton of African beer and drank the lot right in front of us. I stood there helplessly shouting “shoo” – to no effect – and in just a few further seconds they were gone, leaving the fridge open and a trail of empty cartons and spilt food in their wake.
#10 – There’s no place like home
At the end of that very hot day as we sat on the terrace and chilled, watching a bull elephant in the river below, the clouds started to roll in. Mike, Malcolm and I sat and watched as electricity began to crackle on the horizon. From our vantage point on the escarpment we could see for a few hundred kms to the south. We watched as a line of dust on the horizon advanced towards us, but there was barely a breeze where we were sitting. Then suddenly, with an almighty crack of thunder, the storm was upon us. A wall of wind hit us, sending everything flying, clattering at the screen doors and whipping up the curtains. We were slapped in the face by dry leaves, twigs and a swirl of dust. The three of us braced ourselves on the balcony, swigging our cold beers as the storm raged on in our faces - sun glasses on for protection against the dust despite the fact that the storm had cut out almost all of the light. It was the most dramatic weather I have ever witnessed – reminding me very much of the tornado scene in the Wizard of Oz.
#7 Lunch time mud bath
As we headed further north later in the week, the sun came back out, the temperature slowly rose and it became harder and harder to spot the wildlife on the move for the bulk of the day. The received wisdom is that you should rise early to see the animals at dawn and either take a siesta or stake out a watering hole during the day. As we drove along just before lunch in the baking hot sun I said “the one thing that I really want to see is a big group of elephants at a watering hole”. Not ten minutes later we passed a large watering hole and saw four bull elephant drinking at the water’s edge, their skin glistening where they had sprayed their backs with mud to cool down and to act as protection from the sun. We sat on a bridge and watched for a while and another elephant joined the first few. He began by slapping some mud about, throwing it high on to his back. Then he decided that really wasn’t doing the trick so he waded into the mud and lay down. That obviously wasn’t working either, so he decided to wade through the mud to the deeper water beyond and then across the river. At this point a larger bull elephant on the opposite bank decided he was not happy with that and shooed the younger elephant away.
Then, suddenly, on the horizon we spied a large group of elephants plodding slowly out of the thicket. As they saw the watering hole they began to speed up, nodding their heads in what looked like intense excitement – if elephants could smile that was what they were doing. As they got closer to the water they started to jog and the entire family ran head long into the water where they threw mud about, splashed around, wallowed and kicked their legs, stamped and slapped their trunks on the water in an orgy of muddy fun. The baby elephants particularly were gurgling and splashing about like toddlers in a paddling pool.
#8 - Let sleeping cats lie
Later that afternoon after a particularly wildlife-devoid hour or two in the relentless heat we found a pride of lions chilling under a tree. They were in such a tangle that it was difficult to make out exactly how many lions we were looking at. They slumbered on, with only their ears and tails twitching, occasionally lifting their heads to scratch or lick a paw, yawn, or roll over on to their backs with their legs in the air, looking every bit like big cuddly pussy cats.
#9 - Baboon take-away
On our penultimate day I had scheduled a much-needed rest day at Oliphants camp. Due to a mix up with the rooms we had landed on our feet and had the pleasure of a rondavel right on the edge of the escarpment overlooking a sweeping bend in the Oliphants River. The temperature rose to 40 degrees and we sat in the shade for most of the day writing post cards, snoozing, and watching the wildlife amble by below us. At most of the accommodation in the park there are big signs warning you to take various precautions to keep the baboons away from your food, such as turning your fridge to the wall or bracing your doors but we hadn’t really seen much sign of the wily fridge-invaders. Our next door neighbours, however, had wedged a very heavy chair against their fridge door. Suddenly we heard a scraping and turned to see a huge male baboon dragging the chair from our neighbours’ fridge. Within seconds the eight or nine baboons had swept into action with furtive glances in every direction in case they were discovered. One smaller monkey stuffed handfuls of cherry tomatoes into his cheeks with both hands. Another stole a lettuce and sat on the wall munching his way through. Another took a metal bowl filled with leftover pasta and made a run for it. The alpha male opened a carton of African beer and drank the lot right in front of us. I stood there helplessly shouting “shoo” – to no effect – and in just a few further seconds they were gone, leaving the fridge open and a trail of empty cartons and spilt food in their wake.
#10 – There’s no place like home
At the end of that very hot day as we sat on the terrace and chilled, watching a bull elephant in the river below, the clouds started to roll in. Mike, Malcolm and I sat and watched as electricity began to crackle on the horizon. From our vantage point on the escarpment we could see for a few hundred kms to the south. We watched as a line of dust on the horizon advanced towards us, but there was barely a breeze where we were sitting. Then suddenly, with an almighty crack of thunder, the storm was upon us. A wall of wind hit us, sending everything flying, clattering at the screen doors and whipping up the curtains. We were slapped in the face by dry leaves, twigs and a swirl of dust. The three of us braced ourselves on the balcony, swigging our cold beers as the storm raged on in our faces - sun glasses on for protection against the dust despite the fact that the storm had cut out almost all of the light. It was the most dramatic weather I have ever witnessed – reminding me very much of the tornado scene in the Wizard of Oz.
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1 comment:
Great post, guys ... very much invoking the mood of the land.
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